by James Palmer
Vashta leaned up and kissed him, full and strong, on the lips. Archer wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. They stayed like that for a long moment before Vashta pulled away. “You are very brave, Jason Archer. Our greatest minstrels shall write songs of your exploits that will endure until the stars burn out.”
Archer laughed, blushing. “Well, it’s not exactly my name in lights, but it will do.”
Vashta cocked her head sideways, then understanding dawned on her face. “Yes, your movies. I saw one of them last week. The Giant Crab Monster. Very interesting.”
Archer groaned. “The word is terrible. You can say it.”
“Goodbye, Jason Archer of Earth. I will never forget you.”
Lady Vashta took a step back and aimed the cylinder at herself.
“Goodbye, Lady Vashta D’Carpathia of Venus.”
The light enveloped her, and she was gone.
Jason stood there for a long time, letting the sounds and smells of Los Angeles creep back into his senses, until a familiar voice broke him from his reverie.
“Jason! Where have you been? We’ve been calling for you. We were gonna ride out to Pink’s. Wanna come?”
Jason looked out toward the mouth of the alley, where Arlo and Reggie’s unit assistant, Coop Spencer, were staring at him slack-jawed. Jason strode toward them with a smile on his face. The mention of Pink’s made his stomach growl, and he realized he could definitely go for a good old-fashioned American hot dog.
“Boy, am I glad to see you guys,” Jason said.
Arlo and Coop looked him over from head to toe. “What the hell did you get into back there? And why are you dressed like that?” Coop said. “You were only gone five minutes, for crying out loud.”
“And when did you get a tan?” asked Arlo.
Archer looked down at his torn and tattered robes, his tan muscles, then clasped both of them on the shoulder and said, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But fellas, have I got an idea for a picture for you. That reminds me, Arlo. Tell Reggie I’m happy to keep playing his monsters.”
“Tell him yourself,” said Arlo. “You’ve got another fitting Monday. You’re playing a big lizard this time.”
“Sounds swell.”
They walked from the alley together, Archer in the middle, his arms around both of them. Archie and Cooper both swayed a little, and their cheeks were red.
“I think I’d better drive,” said Archer. “You boys look a bit tight.”
Coop narrowed his eyes at him. “Us? What about you? You look practically done in.”
Archer laughed. “No way. Not me. I’m in top form. Never better.” Something metallic glittered in the light off to his left, and he stopped. “Hang on, gents. Go ahead and find your car. I’ll be right there.”
Arlo and Coop stared after him a minute before going to fetch Coop’s car, both men shaking their heads.
In the alley beneath a scrap of newspaper, Archer saw it. He reached down and brought up one of the Overmen’s cylinders. He hefted it, cool in his hand. Wondering what he should do with it, Archer tucked it into his robes before running off after his friends.
End?
Alternate Ending
Chapter Thirteen
Homecoming-Alternate Ending
When the light dissipated, it was night; true night, not the ersatz dark of the dome. The oppressive heat and humidity were replaced by a cool wind, and stale cigarettes and jazz greeting his senses like an old friend. He knew instantly he was home.
A scuffling sound drew Archer’s attention to his left, where a familiar sight greeted him. Lady Vashta, wearing period clothing, was struggling with the remaining Overman. The first being still lay in a heap at the front of the alley. Archer’s mind caught up fully to what his senses were telling it. He had returned to his time scant seconds after he left.
He lunged toward the scuffling figures, pulling them apart and dealing the Overman a deadly blow to the chin that sent him sprawling. Something dropped from his coat and rolled some distance away, and Archer knew it must be the being’s cylinder. The Overman grappled with him now, only it wasn’t the Archer his associate had fought, but one hardened by time and torment on the future Venus, an Archer who knew who and what the Overmen were and what they were capable of. Archer fought like a caged animal who is tired of being prodded. Despite his fatigue from his exertions on Venus Archer battled with a renewed vigor. He growled angrily like a jungle cat as he beat the Overman back against the wall of the adjoining building, never giving his foe an inch. The Overman was bigger, smarter, but accustomed to using technology and fear to control Archer’s kind. Now he had neither advantage as Archer pummeled him senseless.
Archer delivered once last blow, and the Overman’s large head smacked wetly against the brick wall before he slumped to the ground.
Archer looked down at him, panting, adrenaline shaking through him. He looked down at his hands to find them still balled into tight fists, and unclenched his fingers as Vashta came up beside him.
“I have been here these last six months spying on the Overmen,” she said. “They are attempting to establish a kind of beachhead here in your time. They have contacts within your government. Scientists, federal law enforcement. They are giving away small pieces of their technology in return for political favor. A shadow government is forming. When I got too close they recognized me, and I had to run. When I ventured into that club and saw you…”
She looked at him, and Archer returned his gaze. He knew what happened next. He had been sent into her past, before they knew each other, while she had been shunted into his. It all made a crazy yet neat circle. Everything made sense now.
Archer placed his arm around her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Are you?”
Archer nodded.
“Did we win?”
“Yes. Thinker assured me that Cadmium would fall, as well as the other cities on Venus.”
“A wave of revolution will flow through the domed cities,” said Vashta, nodding. “Soon all will be free of the yoke of the Overmen.”
Archer removed his arm from her shoulder. “What of the ones here, in my time?”
Vashta shrugged. “Let me worry about them. If they return to Venus of my time, they will be arrested. If they remain here, they will be eternally cut off from getting supplies from the future. They will be outnumbered by the people of your world and will be routed. As for these…” Vashta gestured to the bodies lying in the alley. She picked up the last Overman’s cylinder where it had fallen and pointed at the first one Archer had killed, before being projected into the future. An envelope of yellow energy surrounded him and he disappeared, followed closely by his companions. “They have been returned to our own time. That should send a very clear message to the Overmen of Venus.”
Archer squeezed her shoulders. “Y-you risked your life for me back there. In the future.”
Vashta gave him a wan smile. “My father used to say that a life risked in the service of others is a life well lived. I thought it was a death bolt that came for you.”
“That’s my point,” said Archer. “You were willing to die in my stead. I don’t think I can ever repay you.”
“You already did.” Vashta embraced him, and their lips touched in a long, deep kiss. When they were done Vashta stepped back, appraising him.
“You could return with me. There is still much to do, and I will still need a protector.”
Archer laughed. “You’ve never needed protecting. I can see that now. Besides, my place is here. Just as your place is with your people.”
Archer watched as Vashta picked up the cylinder the Overman had dropped and examined its length. Confident she could operate it, she pointed the business end toward her. “Farewell, Jason Archer, champion of Earth.”
“Wait,” Archer said, running toward her. “I’ve been thinking. I don’t have much of a life here. I think I’m better at slaying monsters than playing them in movies. Maybe I could c
ome back with you, just for a little while. Make sure things are all right there.”
Vashta smiled. “It’s a date.”
Archer hugged her tightly as she activated the cylinder, and they vanished in an orb of bright yellow light.
End
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About James Palmer
James is an award-nominated author, editor and publisher of New Pulp, space opera, steampunk, and more. He has written articles, columns, and reviews for the likes of Tangent Online, The Internet Review of Science Fiction, and Strange Horizons, and has written stories for Airship 27, Pro Se Productions, White Rocket Books, and Moonstone. A recovering comic book addict, James lives in Northeast Georgia with his wife and daughter, two dogs, a Netflix account, and a metric ton of books. For more weirdness, visit www.jamespalmerbooks.com.
